


behind glass

by likecharity



Category: Chronicles of Narnia RPF
Genre: Crushes, F/F, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Showers, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-11
Updated: 2008-08-11
Packaged: 2018-01-26 12:00:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1687550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likecharity/pseuds/likecharity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's no good trying to deny this attraction. She's spent several months doing that, now, and she was actually getting pretty good at it, but then Georgie started taking off her clothes only a wall away and Anna's imagination has started working overtime.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	behind glass

**Author's Note:**

> For [lettersandliars](http://lettersandliars.livejournal.com), who requested 'Anna/Georgie, Anna being kind of a pervert and watching Georgie in the shower or anything in that vein' over at the [Narnia Kink Meme](http://likecharity.livejournal.com/65221.html). There was meant to be more porn in this, I hope you enjoy it anyway. XD Georgie is fifteen!

They have always shared hotel rooms. Always. Ever since promotion first began for _Wardrobe_. And this has never been a problem. Georgie has changed in front of her _countless_ times. They've slept in the same bed. Anna can remember several occasions when Georgie would be taking a shower and she would waltz right into the bathroom with her because she needed to brush her teeth.

But all of that was a long time ago. Maybe not _that_ long ago, but right now it certainly seems like it. It was back when Georgie was -- well, when she hadn't reached _puberty_ , and she hadn't paid any attention to things like modesty.

And now, those things just aren't true anymore.

Anna swears under her breath. She's sitting on her hotel bed, her head in her hands. She's almost wishing she and Will _hadn't_ been invited to the _Dawn Treader_ premiere. It would make things a lot easier. Of course, she'd still have to _see_ Georgie, but she wouldn't have to be in the next room while Georgie was undressing for a shower, and that would mean she would probably be able to put off dealing with these feelings for longer.

She doesn't usually see Georgie the same way the public does. Between the first two films, they still saw each other a lot, so she didn't really pay attention to how much Georgie was growing up. She didn't really understand the stunned reaction everybody seemed to have when _Prince Caspian_ was released, the disbelief that this Georgie Henley was really the same little round-faced ten year old from the first film.

But now -- now she thinks she understands it.

They kept in touch when filming started. She received several excited emails and texts filled with capslock, and even the occasional handwritten letter when Georgie could be bothered. They had conversations on the phone when they could manage it, having to work around each other's schedules and the time difference. And when it was finally time for her and Will's visit to set (extremely late, because Will had been so busy), she _did_ wonder vaguely in the back of her mind how much everybody would have changed.

But nothing could have prepared her for it, really.

She barely even recognised Georgie at first. She remembers the way she acted, and god, she must have looked like such an idiot. She had expected Georgie to have grown taller, of course, but that was about as far as she'd gotten, and it just -- it was a total shock. Georgie had curves suddenly, she wasn't a twiggy little thing anymore. She had _hips_. Anna can still remember the way Georgie's vest-top rode a little too high and her jeans hung a little too low and there was that sliver of pale skin and hipbones and how she just _could not stop staring._

And then there were her _breasts._ She'd wished somebody would have maybe warned her about that, before realising how ridiculous a thought that was. Skandar wasn't exactly going to drop her an email and tack onto the end _oh and Georgie has tits now, I thought you should know,_ was he? But at least then she would have been prepared. Because she really, really wasn't ready for the way Georgie filled out that vest-top, the swell of her chest, the _cleavage._ (Later, Georgie confided in her in a half-embarrassed, half-excited tone of voice that she had to keep buying bigger bras and getting her costumes re-fitted because they _wouldn't stop growing._ )

And then, of course, there was her face. Anna's always found Georgie pretty, but in the ordinary, sort of disorganised way that children are, when they haven't grown into their features yet but you can tell when they do, it's going to look good. She just...didn't know Georgie was going to look _this_ good. She'd just turned fifteen, for god's sake. But she just looked so much more grown-up. It was hard to describe. Her jaw was somehow more defined, her features harder. There were little crinkles by her eyes when she grinned that Anna didn't remember ever noticing before, and her lips were shiny and red with strawberry lipbalm that she seemed to be addicted to, re-applying every ten minutes.

She'd _acted_ just the same, and the combination had thrown Anna off completely, making her stumble over her words and hug her clumsily. She didn't know how to behave around this Georgie. It was like -- well, it was like someone had taken a hot young girl and given her Georgie's voice and personality and all of her mannerisms, and it was making Anna realise things about Georgie that she'd never realised before.

The whole thing with Will P. only made -- _makes_ \-- the situation worse. She'd heard about it within about ten minutes of arriving on set, from various people. It was said -- by everybody -- that Georgie and Will P. had a 'bit of a thing going on'. Anna dismissed it at first, assuming it was a one-way crush or simply a rumour, but then she witnessed handholding and kisses on the cheek, and instantly, it took over her entire mind. She wanted -- still wants -- to know the intimate details of the relationship, and still, sometimes, can't stop herself from imagining Will P. with his hands all over her, the two of them entwined against a trailer, tongues in each other's mouths.

It's distressing, to say the least.

She thought, at first, that maybe she was just being protective, and comforted herself with this, but it's obvious now that things don't quite match up. Will P.'s a lovely boy, sweet and courteous and just a little bit shy, and maybe his personality doesn't quite _fit_ with Georgie's, but Anna knows that that's no reason for her brain to keep labelling him a variety of pretty awful names whenever he's around. And then there's her _insane_ curiosity about the two of them. How far have they gone? She's never even seen them kiss on the lips before but her mind is constantly inventing racy scenarios that do nothing but make her inexplicably _furious_ with poor innocent Will P. And somehow, _somehow_ , even though she and Georgie used to stay up way into the night whispering secrets, she has never asked Georgie a single thing about him, and Georgie has never told.

She can hear the water running in the bathroom and she swears again. It's no good trying to deny this attraction. She's spent several months doing that, now, and she was actually getting pretty good at it, but then Georgie started taking off her clothes only a wall away and Anna's imagination has started working overtime. It's like she's literally incapable of stopping the images in her mind, the ones of Georgie slowly peeling off her t-shirt and shrugging off her jeans, looking at herself in the bathroom mirror before unhooking her bra, sliding down her underwear. Underwear that Anna _knows_ is a thong, due to that incident at lunchtime earlier today when Georgie dropped her fork and leaned down to pick it up. Will saw too, and while Anna sat there blushing and staring at her plate, he just prodded Georgie in the ribs and said "I think we ought to get you a belt, missy."

Georgie's probably stepping into the shower, now, hot water pouring over her naked body. Anna swallows. She can't stop, now that she's started. It's like the floodgates have opened up and every thought that she's denied herself since that visit to set is bombarding her brain, making her throat dry and her knickers wet, and _god_ , the shame is literally colouring her face, making it hot and red, and everything, _everything_ about this is wrong. This is _Georgie._

Georgie the ten year old, hyperactive silly little Georgie who was like a younger sister to her, demanding 'cuddle time' and clapping games. Georgie the thirteen year old, bold and confident and knowing more than they all thought she did, and taking sips from Anna's champagne at premiere after-parties when she thought she wasn't looking. The connection there is easy, Anna was there for the transition. But no matter how hard she tries, the circuit fizzles out and dies whenever she tries to jab thirteen and fifteen together. She's missed a lot of time and maybe if she hadn't, this wouldn't be happening right now. But it _is._

She stands up suddenly, deciding she's got to try and distract herself, maybe get a book or her mp3 player, _anything._ But the second she's on her feet, there's a long wail of " _Annaaaa,_ " from the bathroom, and she freezes.

"Uh huh?" she calls back weakly.

"Come in here, this shower is retarded," Georgie shouts over the burbling sound of the water.

Anna's instinct is to roll her eyes, but then she realises that Georgie is asking her to come into the bathroom and then her brain seems to stop working.

"Anna!" Georgie whines again.

Anna somehow regains the control of her feet, and manages to get to the door. But she can't open it. "Um -- George -- you need to let me in," she stammers.

"Oh, right," Georgie giggles, and Anna hears the bolt being slid aside. She takes a deep breath and tries the door again.

Georgie's wrapped in a towel, and this hotel must be cheaper than she thought because there really isn't enough fabric there. Georgie hasn't secured the two ends, is just clutching them to her chest, and when she turns towards the shower Anna catches a glimpse of her arse as she moves. She shuts her eyes tightly for a moment, willing the image to leave her mind, but it's like it's imprinted on the inside of her eyelids.

"It's boiling," Georgie says, and Anna opens her eyes again, bracing herself, trying to keep her eyes focused on the shower cubicle instead of Georgie.

But then Georgie opens the door of the cubicle and leans inside, practically bending right over to check the temperature of the water with her hand. Anna can almost see between her legs and she just _can't look away._

"I swear I've done this right," Georgie says, standing upright again and gesturing to the shower. "Stupid thing."

Anna swallows, realising this is the part where she actually has to do something. She heads towards the shower, reaching around the flow of water to experiment with all of the buttons and taps on the wall. It does look pretty complicated. She presses and turns things, and Georgie peers over her, the warmth of her body _so close_. Anna can hear her breathing, can feel the tickle of damp hair against her shoulder. She tries to concentrate, but all she can think about it how Georgie is _naked_ under that towel. Finally, the water seems to get cooler.

"Oh, it was just this," Anna says, straightening up and pointing. "You weren't twisting the knob right."

Georgie stands back and splutters with laughter.

"Georgie!" Anna admonishes her instinctively, hands on her hips.

"What? It's not _my_ fault you've spent the entire day speaking in sexual innuendos," Georgie retorts, and her cheeky grin practically makes Anna squirm.

"It's your fault for having such a dirty mind," she manages to respond, and Georgie sticks out her tongue.

Anna turns towards the door immediately. She's got to get out of here. Her eyes are darting _all over the place_ and she's sure Georgie must be able to tell. Something bright red catches her eye as she's leaving and she glances towards it, seeing that it's Georgie's discarded bra, lying on top of a pile of clothes by the sink. The thong is just underneath it, a tangle of thin black fabric, and Anna averts her eyes, reaching for the doorknob.

"Anna?"

Anna's heart leaps into her throat. This is it. Georgie's going to ask her why she's been acting so weird lately, she'll probably say something like _what up with the underwear obsession?_ and Anna's going to have to come up with a pretty good excuse or else she's dead.

"Yeah?" she says carefully, turning around.

Georgie is standing by the side of the shower cubicle, towel pressed to her chest with one hand. She's reaching out with her other hand, testing the water again. "It's too cold now."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously," says Georgie gravely. "I told you it was retarded."

Anna sighs. She can't do this again. She can't go over there and stand next to Georgie again in this situation, she just _can't._ Her reluctance is clearly visible on her face because Georgie takes pity on her.

"It doesn't matter," she says, drawing the words out and heaving a sigh. "I'll cope. It's better for it to be too cold than too hot, anyway."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Now scram."

Georgie flicks her wrist, sending a spray of water from her wet hand across the room that doesn't quite reach Anna. The towel shifts with her movement and Anna can't move, it's like she's rooted to the spot.

" _Scram!_ " Georgie repeats, giggling, skipping over to the door and all but pushing Anna into the bedroom.

Anna stumbles across the room and throws herself down on the bed immediately, face down into her pillow. _Fuck._

She stays this way for at _least_ five minutes, going through her times tables in her head as high as she can, and, failing that quickly, mentally reciting two Shakespeare sonnets. But then her attention drifts. Why does Georgie have to take such long showers? It really doesn't make any sense. She doesn't have that much hair to wash. Then again, she thinks, remembering when they were filming _Prince Caspian_ , that never stopped Skandar from spending practically all morning in the shower.

Will had some theories about what he was doing in there, though, that most certainly did not involve washing his hair.

Oh _fuck._ How did she end up going down that train of thought? Now she can't help wondering if that's why Georgie takes such long showers too, and an image flashes into her mind -- Georgie, wet hair plastered across her face, her back pressed against cold tiles, her fingers working quickly between her legs -- and the floodgates have now not only been opened up, but are shattered into a million pieces. Anna presses her hips into the mattress. She can hear her own breathing heavy against her pillow, and she rolls over onto her front, reaching for the zipper of her jeans. This is awful, _so_ awful, but Georgie won't be out of the bathroom for ages and she's _sure_ she has enough time.

She's got her hand down the front of her knickers, and she's so wet that it surprises her, her fingers gliding easily down over slick folds of hot skin and it's _then_ that she hears a sudden clunk from the bathroom. She whips her hand out of her trousers, glancing anxiously at the door.

And that's when she sees that it's open.

Not _wide_ open of course, but it's at least ajar, maybe even a little more. If she stretches out and cranes her neck, she can catch a glimpse inside the bathroom. It's all quite indistinct and she can't tell which part she's looking at, and she's trying to work it out when she finally registers the _clunk_ , and comes to her senses.

She sits up. "Georgie?" she calls. No reply. She stands up. "Are you okay?"

There's a very brief silence, and then Georgie's voice comes back to her. "Wonderful!" she replies cheerily. "Just knocked over a shampoo bottle."

"Right," says Anna. "Okay."

Great, and now she's standing up for no reason, which means that the temptation to tiptoe towards the bathroom door and see how much she can see from _this_ angle is really pretty strong. _You are not going to do this,_ she tells herself firmly, keeping her feet flat and still on the carpet.

That lasts all of about three seconds, and then there she is, hovering in front of the crack of the door, blood thumping in her ears. _Anna Popplewell, you are fucking pathetic_ , she informs herself helplessly, pressing in closer, feeling the doorframe against her skin now. And that's when she looks -- _really_ looks.

The shower is cold. That's why there's no condensation -- or, hardly any, at least, not enough to be doing anything other than clouding over the corners of the glass in a half-hearted sort of way. And so, well, _she's seeing Georgie naked._ It's actually -- this surprises her -- almost exactly how she'd imagined it. She supposes if you know someone's body fairly well when they're younger, you have a pretty good chance of being able to picture it once it's more mature. She supposes this because if she doesn't force herself to think logical thoughts then she's going to dissolve into a puddle of what can only be called _arousal_ at the entrance to the bathroom, and she doesn't think the maids would appreciate that.

_Fuck._

Georgie turns slightly, so Anna is seeing her sideways on. She presses a soapy washcloth to her freckled chest and sweeps it over her breasts and Anna has no _choice_ but to stare at them, now. Pert and pale, the nipples rosy-pink and hard under the cold flow of water, they remind Anna of how her breasts looked at Georgie's age. _God,_ she can remember how excited she'd been every time she went up a cup size. Now, they have their moments of giving her hell, but back then they were the _best thing ever_ and she just couldn't stop -- well --

Georgie cups one of her breasts in her hand, looking down at herself, thumbing a hard nipple. Anna can see the water streaming down over her, her skin glistening wet. Georgie turns again, towards the shower head now, her back to Anna, and she tilts her face up to the shower, pulling her hair back from her face. She arches her back and stretches up to the water, and Anna's gaze slips down to Georgie's arse, the perfect little dimples above it, the rounded curves, the split of her thighs...and that's when she turns again. Eyes closed, _thank god._ Anna's knickers are soaked through. She shifts uncomfortably, but the friction only adds to the problem and she clenches her teeth and -- shit, she's already gone this far, she may as well just say _fuck it all_ and let herself _stare._

And so she does. A neat triangle of russet hair at the juncture of Georgie's thighs is all she sees at first, and then Georgie's feet slip further apart, her legs spreading. Anna feels like she's throbbing against her jeans. In a flash she's got her hand back inside them, fingers slip-sliding clumsily in her haste to relieve the ache. She presses her palm against her clit and sighs softly, ducking her head to get a better view. This is so fucked up, she thinks weakly. This is _so_ fucked up. Georgie's hand trails down over her belly, then across to her hip, down a smooth wet thigh. Anna bites her lip and lets her mind wander a little bit, bringing back the mental image she entertained herself with before -- Georgie against the wall, fingers inside herself, mouth falling open as her moans mingle with the sound of the shower -- and Anna's eyes slip shut as she presses her hand hard against her clit and grabs hold of the doorframe to keep herself upright.

She opens her eyes immediately, remembering where she is and just how _risky_ this is, praying Georgie won't see her, _can't_ see her. But Georgie isn't looking in her direction. She's slumped against the wall with her back curved and her legs pushed forwards, perfectly still as the water cascades over her. Anna watches, mesmerised, eyes taking in every inch of her body, and that's when Georgie starts touching herself. It's slow, Anna wants to even use the word 'teasing' although she knows Georgie isn't doing this for anybody's benefit. She starts off with one hand cupping one of her tits again, thumb rolling over the nipple like before, and then smoothes her palm over her stomach and down between her slightly-parted legs.

Anna stares. She can't see exactly what's happening but Georgie's hand is clamped tightly between her thighs and she hears a soft gasp, and that's when she can see the hand start _moving_ , and she grips the doorframe tightly and slides her own finger inside herself, hot and tight, the relief so immense that she almost comes right then and there. She moves in time with Georgie, their rhythms matching by chance, and her gaze flickers from the movements of Georgie's hand to the expression on her face -- dazed, blissful, her head rocking back against the tiles with each thrust of her fingers. Anna is stunned, her breathing heavy -- this _is_ why Georgie takes so long in the shower, and the possibility of her having done it before when Anna's been in just the next room makes her grind her palm across her clit and push a second finger between her slick folds, biting her lip, trying to keep quiet.

When she looks up, she sees that Georgie is having the same struggle. Little whimpers are escaping her lips, still audible over the noise of the shower, and suddenly Georgie reaches up with her free hand and clamps it over her mouth as her back arches and her legs open wider, her fingers moving quicker and more frantically. It's seeing this that makes Anna come, clenching around her own fingers and trembling against the doorframe, her eyes falling closed once again as her orgasm courses through her.

Her eyes are still shut a moment later, which is why she doesn't notice that she's been caught until she hears the cautious, confused stammer of "A-Anna?" from inside the bathroom.

Her eyes fly open and all she gives herself time to register is the frozen shape of Georgie standing under the shower, her arms hanging loosely by her sides now. And then she's pulling her hand out of her jeans, scraping it on the zip in her hurry. It's too late, though. She knows there's no way she can cover this up.

"What-?" Georgie says, then she suddenly flicks off the shower, pushing open the door of it and stepping out. "Anna, come in here."

Anna swallows. Her face is bright red, she knows it, and her heart is in her throat. "No, no," she says quickly. "No -- listen, _fuck_ , Georgie, I'm sorry, it wasn't even -- I'm not trying to -- listen, I'll go, I'll go home, I'm _so_ sorry, it was just..." She trails off.

"The premiere's tomorrow, you goon. You can't go home," is all Georgie says at first. And then her voice softens and she says, "Anna, come in here, I'm not mad."

Squeezing her eyes shut, Anna does as Georgie says, pushing the door wider and stepping into the bathroom.

"Were you really--?" says Georgie, then cuts herself off. She laughs abruptly, making Anna jump. "Oh my god, this is amazing."

Anna would not use the word 'amazing'. She would substitute 'mortifying', perhaps. If Georgie would give her the chance.

"I," says Georgie somewhat proudly, "have a ginormous crush on you." She giggles, then covers her mouth and calms down. "Sorry," she adds. "I've been dreaming about saying that for _ages._ "

Anna doesn't even consider the possibility that she's serious. It just seems like one of those things, one of those _Georgie_ things. She's always saying strange things, unexpected things, and Anna can hardly concentrate on that now. She glosses over it.

"Georgie, I'm really sorry," she says, eyes still closed because she hasn't heard Georgie pick up a towel yet, "I don't really have an excuse. I just -- I don't know. But are we okay?"

"We are," Georgie affirms, "but," she adds, "we could be more."

She punctuates the sentence with a kiss, hot and hard on Anna's open mouth, sudden inexperienced lips and tongue and the heat of Georgie's wet, naked body against hers.

" _What,_ " says Anna dumbly, finally opening her eyes and being greeted with the sight of Georgie's face much, much closer than it has probably ever been. She can also see her own reflection in the mirror behind Georgie, can see her stunned, slack-jawed expression, her jeans still open and exposing a rumpled triangle of underwear, her blouse rucked up.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," Georgie says. She looks a little dazed herself, but in a different way.

"How long?"

"I know the exact date that it first occurred to me," Georgie tells her, "but it was a very long time ago, and it might freak you out if I did the calculations."

Anna tries very hard to keep her eyes on Georgie's face, but her eyes are drawn to droplets of water trickling down Georgie's breasts and thighs, and to damp dark hair between legs, and to dustings of freckles in places she has never been able to examine so closely.

"What," she forces herself to say again, but has a follow-up this time, "about Will P.?"

Georgie wrinkles her nose. "Boys are gross," she says off-handedly, and the sentence combined with her expression make her seem so incredibly _young_ , which makes Anna feel slightly ill at ease.

"They're not all bad," she says.

"I don't know why you're trying to convince me," Georgie snorts.

Anna doesn't, either, so she doesn't say anything, and then Georgie giggles at her, and it's so _weird_ , because it's really just like it's always been between the two of them. She sort of blinks and stares at Georgie's eyes -- _god_ , so gorgeous, shining and blue -- and her smile, which is quirky and michievous and Anna doesn't really have time to process anything else before the smile becomes a pout and Georgie's fingers are toying with the collar of Anna's blouse.

"What--" she says, then gives herself a few seconds to think, as Georgie's fingers work calmly down the buttons. "Why are you being so calm about this? And what are you doing?" she manages eventually.

"I'm taking off your clothes," Georgie informs her, ignoring the first question and giggling again, girlish and cheeky. "I thought you wouldn't want them to get wet."

"Wet?" Anna repeats helplessly.

"In the shower," says Georgie, "which we are going to get into together." Her tone is matter-of-fact but her eyes are wicked as she raises an eyebrow and her knuckles brush Anna's chest.

"You," says Anna, stunned, "you," she says again, trying to get her head around it, "you fancy me. You really do."

"I really do," Georgie confirms. "I can't believe you never realised." She laughs. "Obviously, I really _am_ a good actress," she preens, teasingly.

"You _are_ ," Anna agrees.

"And _you_ ," says Georgie, glancing first to the open door and then to Anna's open jeans, "are a pervert."

She punctuates _this_ sentence with a flick of Anna's last blouse button, and looks up at her, grinning. Anna nods in agreement, defeatedly, as Georgie leans in eagerly for another kiss. She's starting to wonder if that's really such a bad label after all.  



End file.
